Seek and ye shall whine, it should
say, because the knocking can cause
more slams than answerings. You
know this, bloody one. The mother

of the child I au paired chided me for
taking her kid to the Berlin Historical,
her 6-year-old sight proving you right
in the wrong ways that children speak

in tongues long before they know why.
“I want to walk in front of an oncoming
car” she said, “so I can be dead like that
guy.” And here’s my question: how have

you ever asked for anything else to be
given? She walked into the silvery steps
of a train car, its sliding door crimsoned
and stuck from the flood of those like her

that it once bore on their way to Auschwitz.
“I know what this is,” she said. I did not
doubt it, though that’s what can keep the
singing and the seeking at bay. Not much

difference between the way you open
your arms to all of us, saying “Be not
afraid,” while you leak all over. I can
love like that, too. I have holes I did

not ask for. I have doors unhinged and
hanging sideways, all from following you.